Sick Situations
by GryffieQueenOfKinkow39
Summary: When Harry falls ill over the holidays of 5th year, it's up to Sirius and Remus to take care of him. But while they chat over Harry's sickbed, they learn some of The-Boy-Who-Lived's darker secrets...and what's this about a Blood Quill? AU, rated T for some badmouth. :) My first story!


**Dedicated to MermaidGirl34, who helped me over my writer's block with this! Check her out, she writes very well! :) Happy Birthday Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling!**

It was an unusually fine day at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Outside was wonderfully sunny, neither too hot nor cold, with a slight breeze blowing through the area. The blinding sunlight had somehow crept it's way inside the dreary, moth eaten curtains and lighted up the atmosphere. The nice weather acted as a sort of mood booster for the inhabitants of number twelve; Even Mrs. Black's yelling was slightly less hateful than usual.

As a result, Arthur offered to take the kids ("We're of age!" Fred and George had bellowed) to a nearby park the next day. They all immediately agreed. The next day, everyone was in a frizzy, glad for a little fresh air that didn't involve chasing any Death Munchers.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Arthur?" Molly asked worriedly. (And for the billionth time, I might add)

"Yes, Molly, dear. It'll be very safe, we'll be bringing Kingsley and Tonks with us, don't worry," Arthur soothed her.

"Hmmm," was the reply.

Meanwhile, Harry was feeling a bit ill. Okay, he was feeling terrible. His head felt like a herd of hippogriffs had suddenly decided to trample his poor skull, and it didn't help that his scar was tingling from his Voldie dream. Quite frankly, if Voldemort wasn't so powerful, Harry would have gone to his little Death Eater hideout a long time ago and-_ don't think of that! _Harry mentally scolded himself. _You are supposed to defeat Voldemort, not turn out worse than him! _He sighed. He was so _tired_ of this, why couldn't he be a normal fifteen-year-old wizard?

Harry was interrupted out of his less-than-cheerful thoughts by Ron's uproot entrance.

"Blimey, mate, we're finally getting out of this bloody house!" The redhead said excitedly. "Dad convinced Mum to take us to something called a 'fark'. Hermione says we're bringing Tonks and Kingsley with us though, for protection, 'cause the rest of the order has to 'tend to important business."

"That's great, Ron," Harry said weakly, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded.

"We're leaving in about an hour," Ron continued, apparently not noticing his best mate's sickly appearance. "So get ready now if you don't want Mum to fuss over you." With that said, he left the room, probably to go pester Hermione about what a 'fark' was. Harry flopped on his bed, suddenly exhausted. Ron said they were leaving in an hour, that should be enough time for a quick nap, maybe he would feel better after a bit of rest.

"Should we wake him?" Hermione asked, biting her lip.

In a rare moment of tact, Ron shook his head. "This is probably the first time he'll sleep well in a month, Hermione, let the bloke be. Harry can come with us to the fark another time. Besides, he'll probably kill us if we wake him up."

"Oh, all right, but-"

"Let's go," Said Ron firmly, and led the bushy haired witch to the door.

_"I will kill you, Harry Potter," said a high, cold voice. "Just like I killed your Mudblood mother and bloodtraitor father...and Diggory's boy...Who will be next, I wonder?" He laughed cruelly as Harry's scar burned white-hot in pain._

_Voldemort then snapped his fingers and out of nowhere, Sirius, Ron, Remus and Hermione appeared, bound and gaged. Hermione spit out her gag and cried out desperately, "Harry! You promised you would protect us! Where were you when the Death Eaters came?" Stunned, Harry made to reach out to them but Voldemort seemed to have thought of this and made sure there was an invisible barrier between him and his loved ones._

_"NO!" Gryffindor's Golden boy screamed as he banged on the magical barrier with all his might. "DON'T HURT THEM!" _

_"Perhaps I should kill your pathetic little godfather? Or maybe the werewolf?"_

_Harry stared, horrified. He knew about Remus? As if reading his mind, (which he probably did) Voldemort let out a mirthless laugh. "You cannot hide things from me, Harry Potter! I know your deepest, darkest secrets...You have just been a slight bother in my otherwise perfect plans...but no longer. It is time you go the same way as your parents did...Goodbye, Harry Potter!" And Harry saw the horribly familiar green light- _

He awoke with a start, and in a moment of pure terror, he screamed, and the shrill sound seemed to go on forever...he was surprised he had been able to make that sound...he felt a sudden rush of dizziness and nausea and ran to the nearest bathroom. Clutching the toilet like a lifesaver, he puked his guts out until he was left with a searing stomach, and became suddenly aware of a slitting headache. Harry leaned against the cold tiles and moaned as he cradled his feverishly hot head. _I failed them, I failed them, _was a chant in his mind, _they could've died...but, _he thought crazily, _maybe the spell somehow turned around and killed him_ instead... then he passed out.

Sirius had been bitterly reflecting his life with BuckBeak when he heard the screams. Quickly, he stood up and ran with an energy he had not possessed since his Auror days. He practically flew to the hallway and saw Remus sprinting up beside him. The werewolf and falsely accused mass murderer exchanged terrified looks, then continued to run to the source of the screams. They arrived just in time to see the familiar mop of black hair sprint into the bathroom, and the sound of retching was heard. Sirius forced the door open and the very sight made him stare...

**Expect the next chapter in a few days, please tell me your honest opinion of this in a review! :) Thanks for reading, Queen**


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